This Ride-Along Is Peppered With Incident

, , , , , , | Legal | March 3, 2019

Several years ago, my dad got to go on a ride-along with a family friend of ours that happened to be a cop. They ended up responding to an incident where a couple of bicycle cops had caught someone and needed to have him taken to the station.

My dad and our friend showed up at the scene. They managed to get the guy into the car. The guy was on something, but they just weren’t sure what. He’d ended up needing to be pepper-sprayed because he wasn’t backing down when asked to stop advancing on the responding officers. The two of them got him back to the station and into the hands of whoever for processing. As our friend was filling out the necessary paperwork, they heard:

“You really don’t want to do that. Nope, I wouldn’t take your pants off. I wouldn’t do that.”

This was followed by a bloodcurdling shriek.

Apparently, the guy had decided he needed to go to the bathroom. After being pepper-sprayed. Another officer was called in to help calm him down.

Stuck In A Bloody Cycle

, , , , , | Healthy | February 13, 2019

About twelve years ago I was riding my motorcycle when I got hit by a driver that didn’t look to see whether the road was clear while exiting her driveway. The impact and subsequent fall wrecked the bike pretty badly; the lights and the mirrors were shattered, the rear brake drum had cracked, the clutch got stuck on partially-disengaged, and the transmission got stuck on third. I was okay, aside from a nasty cut on my chin that got the front of my jacket covered in blood.

After checking myself for bodily injuries and concluding that I had sustained none aside from that cut, I exchanged the mandatory details with the woman that hit me, and told her I wanted to contact the police to have an accident report filled. The woman exclaimed that “she had no time for this,” and promptly drove off, leaving her front bumper, which had torn off in the collision, behind. I then found out that I had no battery remaining on my phone.

I just went to the police station to get that report, on that very bike which was somehow still driveable with all that damage. The officer I spoke to was horrified by the way I looked with all that blood, told me that the report could wait, and urged me to go to the ER to get myself examined. When he asked me whether I could get to the hospital myself, I absent-mindedly just nodded and pointed at the helmet I had in my hand. That seemed to satisfy him and I went on my way.

In retrospect, I don’t know what was worse: the fact that I rode a motorcycle in a condition that made it nowhere near legal to be ridden right up to the police station’s front door, or that the officer, who must have assumed that I was involved in a serious crash, was perfectly fine with me riding the motorcycle involved in that very same crash to the hospital.

Could Have Become A Powder Keg

, , , , | Legal | February 5, 2019

Years ago, after my first husband passed away, I was cleaning out his closet and found some half-used cans of various gunpowders used for making his own ammunition.  

I figured I wouldn’t be able to sell it once it was opened, and didn’t know anyone at that time who made their own bullets, so I decided to give it to the firearms officer at our local police station.

Standing in line for my turn, there was only one other person waiting: a very large biker guy with full-colour leathers who was behind me.

When it was my turn, I approached the desk with my arm outstretched holding a large, brown paper bag. “I need to give you this gun powder,” I said.

The lady’s eyes grew large as she stepped back. At the same time, I notice the large biker guy out of the side of my eye moving slowly back toward the door. “Let me get someone,” she said, ditching around the corner.

In that moment, I realized it probably was not a very smart move bringing a bag of gun powder into the police station unannounced. Ultimately, they decided to accept it as a ‘Lost and Found’ object and let me go on my way. Note to self…

It’s A Very Fine Day

, , , , , | Legal | January 13, 2019

(I work for a community police department. Even though I wear a police uniform, I’m not a police officer. There are certain aspects of police work we aren’t allowed to do, such as processing criminal cases, since we’re mostly tasked with traffic cases, granting permits, and managing gastronomic establishments, as well as events on public property. It’s a Saturday afternoon, which means our reception is closed and people need to ring to be let into the building. On our security camera, I see a very upset-looking man with his kid in tow coming up and ringing the doorbell. A Swiss canton is similar to a state in the United States; we have communal police, cantonal police, and federal police, all with different responsibilities.)

Me: *via door intercom* “Hello, how may I help you?”

Client: “I would like to press criminal charges.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but we are unable to process criminal cases. You would need to talk to the cantonal police about that. I can give you the address.”

Client: “That’s okay, but I still need a written confirmation from you.”

(I’m not sure what he’s talking about, so I decide to let him into the lobby and talk face to face with him. Once he’s inside, he hands me a parking fine, which was issued maybe fifteen minutes ago.)

Client: “I need to press criminal charges. This fine has been issued erroneously and as such constitutes falsification of documents. I’ve made a picture of the parking meter to prove that I still had paid time on it.”

(He shows me the picture of the meter on his phone. Something a lot of people don’t know is that when we go around and read off those meters, there are a few indicators on the display that tell us at a glance which parking spaces still have time on them and which have expired. Even though on the photo it says he still has ten minutes on it, I can tell that the time on his parking space has expired. I naturally assume that he simply pressed a button for one of the adjacent parking spaces to check which still had some time and now lies to my face in order to get the fine revoked. Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to inform him about all of this and instead point him towards making a formal complaint.)

Me: “I see. Well, that’s not really a case of falsification of documents; as such, there are no criminal charges you could press. The only thing you can do, if you believe that you’ve been falsely fined, is write a formal complaint where you state your case. You can add the picture you’ve taken as evidence for your case and one of our clerks in charge will look into it.”

Client: *explodes* “THAT’S NONSENSE! I’ll never get through with that. You’ll just claim that the time expired and I put in some money into the parking meter after the fine got issued.”

Me: “If that’s your worry, I could also claim the same right now, as I have no idea if you did or didn’t put additional money into the meter.”

(He raises the phone he’s been holding in his hand this entire time and attempts to take a photo of me. I hold up my hand over his phone’s camera lens, at which point he pulls back his phone.)

Client: “DON’T TOUCH MY PHONE! THAT’S ASSAULT!”

Me: “No, it isn’t. You aren’t allowed to take my picture without my permission. If you don’t want to get into any more trouble, I suggest you take my advice and write a formal complaint about your parking fine. There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

Client: *while exiting the building* “Where’s the next newspaper? I want to make this public, how these local police go around wrongfully fining people and treating them badly.”

Me: “That would be [Newspaper] on [Street]. Have a nice day!”

(We get a lot of people who threaten us to go to the media, and we usually shrug it off. Most of the time it’s an empty threat, anyway. After this incident, I looked up his license plate, which ended up being registered on his company, which helps wealthy people keep their taxes low and is located in the canton with the lowest taxes of the entire country. But he was still willing to make such a fuss and lie to what he would have to assume be a police officer for a fine worth around $40.)

Needs To Reorient Their Detective Skills

, , , , , , , | Friendly Legal Romantic | January 10, 2019

(My cousin is a very masculine, straight-acting police officer. The following exchange takes place in his precinct.)

Officer: “God, my wife is driving me nuts. Women, huh? Doesn’t your wife just make you crazy sometimes?”

Cousin: “I don’t have a wife.”

Officer: “Ah, sorry, I saw the ring. Divorced, huh?”

Cousin: “No.”

Officer: “Oh. Widowed?”

Cousin: “No, I’m definitely still married.”

Officer: *now very confused* “So, you do have a wife?”

Cousin: *starting to snicker at the routine* “No.”

Officer: *as several other cops within earshot also start to crack up* “I don’t understand.”

Sergeant: *yelling in exasperation* “He’s married to a man and therefore has a husband! Jesus Christ, [Officer], how do you expect to make detective with those deductive reasoning skills?”

Officer: “Ohhhhh.”

1 Thumbs
1,044
VOTES
Page 1/212